


Entwined

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/M, Weddings, there's a 3rd ship but it's a surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: "In anime, this occasion usually happens right at the end of the series, and other than an OVA or fanfiction, that’s supposed to be it. The credits roll. But... this isn’t anime. Life goes on afterwards, so do your best, always! Protect each other. Be there for each other. Today is one of the few days that can be as perfect as an episode of an anime, so make the best of it!"Due to a mishap, Naegi and Kirigiri's wedding is booked for the same time and place as Togami and Fukawa's. They make the best of it.





	Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> written for notattumbr20 on tumblr! i really enjoyed writing this!

Byakuya stroked his thumb against the textured card, sitting at a desk in an empty classroom. A pair of butterflies had been etched onto the front of the invitation, which had been folded in a gatefold and folded again horizontally on each flap, so each side was an accordion fold that, when opened outward, revealed some text behind them about the occasion. One butterfly occupied each flap, with one wing hanging past the inner fold line. In the top left corner of the left flap was one name, and in the bottom right corner of the right flap was another name. The first name belonged to him, Byakuya, and the second was that of his fiancee.

Maintaining her brisk pace, Kyouko glanced down and reread the envelope at the top of her stout pile one more time before checking her wristwatch. In an hour, she was scheduled to have her lunch. She raised her chin and keeping her eyes forward, she continued through the corridor, her heels clicking against the varnished floor. At regular intervals, she passed doors either side of her that led into various rooms, mostly classrooms where at this time of day, lessons would be taking place. However, Kyouko ignored them all, and she arrived at the bottom of a stairwell.

Each area of Hope’s Peak had been installed with different coloured lighting. After Byakuya and his former classmates left the school following the end of the mutual killings, the power had turned off, leaving each corridor as grim and depressing as the others. On their eventual return, they managed to get the generator running again, though on the floor that Byakuya was on, the corridors had dull grey walls and neutral lighting. That must have been a design choice by the previous headmaster, whose office had been on this floor.

No one was here. This used to be her father’s office until his death and was now used by the current headmaster. Kyouko lingered for a little longer in the doorway before leaving, closing the door behind her. While the school had been more or less restored, certain areas still had a poor phone reception, and besides, she didn’t think finding who she wanted would take her much longer, so she set off again.

Most of the invitations had been given out at this point. He had started giving them out this this morning. Some had been sent in an email, but for those in the school with Byakuya, he planned to hand them the invitation personally, and thinking he would find who he wanted in the headmaster’s office, he finally rose and crossed the room to go to the door.

Only one couple was left to be invited. The corridor bathed Kyouko in neutral light, and grey walls flanked either side of her. First, she had checked the dormitories, then the teachers’ room, and neither of the people she wanted to meet were in the headmaster’s office like Yasuhiro had suggested, as Byakuya had mentioned to Yasuhiro about wanting to speak with the headmaster that day, so as she hadn’t had any luck so far, she thought it likely that the next best places to search were the library and the cafeteria.

Byakuya stepped out of the classroom and spotted Kyouko coming from the direction of the headmaster’s office. He walked toward her.

Kyouko heard a door open and she saw Byakuya step out of a classroom. She walked toward him.

They stopped in front of each other and held out the invitations at the same time

“What’s that?” they asked simultaneously. They paused, then said together, “A wedding invitation.”

They exchanged invitations and started to read through them.

Byakuya frowned. “31st December?”

“At Shining Star Shrine?” said Kyouko, brow furrowed.

“At 1pm?” they said together. They stiffened and locked eyes.

“You have a misprint on the invitation,” said Byakuya, flaunting it with one hand. “You have listed the same place and time as my wedding, and I’m certainly not marrying you.”

She folded her arms over her chest.

“You’re the one who is mistaken,” said Kyouko, and he raised a fist.

“I am not marrying you!”

“I mean about when and where your wedding is taking place.”

He squinted and slightly unclenched his elevated fist.

“No, I’m not,” replied Byakuya. His features darkened. “You are.”

More staring.

“I purposely chose this day because it is Taian this year,” Kyouko informed him.

“I know,” said Byakuya icily. “I also chose it to be on the last day of the year especially.”

“As with me.”

They stared at each other for a bit longer.

“There’s a simple way to sort this out,” said Byakuya.

Without breaking eye contact, he retrieved his phone from his trouser pocket. He looked away only as he searched up a phone number, and he returned his gaze to her as he waited for the call to connect.

“It’s Byakuya Togami,” said Byakuya, once he had allowed the other person to introduce themselves. “I booked my wedding day for the 31st December, but my colleague claims that she is having her wedding on that day too. Kyouko Kirigiri.”

Byakuya turned his phone’s speaker on so that Kyouko could hear.

“Give me a moment,” came a woman’s voice. More than a moment later, she said, “Thanks for waiting. Yes, you’re right. Makoto Naegi and Kyouko Kirigiri had already booked their wedding, but someone then put Touko Fukawa and Byakuya Togami in for the same slot. I don’t know how that happened. I’m afraid that as this is one of the most requested venues, we don’t have a free booking for the next several months, and then the Shrine will be shut to the public for a year for renovation works. It can survive disasters, but it can’t survive constant footfall and Nobue-sama needs a period of peace. My apologies. Um... I’ll leave you two to decide who gives up their booking.”

He hung up, looking at Kyouko, who looked back at him.

And so their silent showdown had begun.

* * *

 

Makoto chewed slowly. Opposite him, Touko poked her chopstick at a thin slice of pork in her vegetable stir fry. He had the same meal. To be precise, the vegetables consisted of snow peas, onion, cabbage, carrots and bean sprouts. And garlic cloves, if one counted them as vegetables. Ginger, mirin and soy sauce created a marinade for the pork, the mirin adding a touch of sweetness. The sauce lit up Makoto’s taste buds, and its aroma could make one weak at the knees and weep with desire.

Why, you might ask, had the meal just been described in such detail? While smell and taste is one of five senses, it can bog down a story to describe them in one go. Someone like Touko might have insisted that they be sprinkled in, rather than sit in a long paragraph that drags on.

Alternately, Makoto could have discussed how hard his chair was, or the rays of light draping themselves over the tables in the cafeteria, pouring through windows that reached the ceiling. Withered trees had been cut down on the other side in the small garden, enclosed by the school building, and saplings planted there instead. He could have contemplated Touko’s outfit. She wore a dark grey waistcoat, a beige ruffled blouse with long sleeves and a long grey skirt which was a lighter shade than her waistcoat.

Truth of the matter was that Makoto was trying to ignore how at their table, Byakuya and Kyouko seemed to be having an intense battle with their minds, staring at the other unwaveringly.

Makoto had found them like this when he joined their table. While Touko was throwing dirty looks at Kyouko, she varied her target, other times peering at Byakuya and at her lunch, so Makoto suspected that she wasn’t fully involved in... whatever this was.

He didn’t really want to say anything, but someone had to. The tension was as thick as the bottom tier on a wedding cake.

“Um... what’s going on?” asked Makoto, ever the martyr.

Byakuya and Kyouko didn’t stop glaring at the other.

“There seems to have been a mishap with the bookings at the Shining Star Shrine,” said Kyouko. “Our weddings have been double-booked.”

The revelation swooped to the bottom of his gut.

“Huh?” went Makoto, attracting short-lived attention from nearby tables. Touko raised her head sharply.

Apparently, despite her sour face, she hadn’t known what was bothering them this whole time. Her mouth stretched out, ajar. His brow creased as his eyes darted between the other two.

“That’s... That’s unbelievable,” said Makoto.

“Well, you better get over it and start believing, because that’s exactly what happened,” Byakuya told him, with his flinty eyes still locked with Kyouko’s pair.

Makoto shifted in his chair.

“So what’s going to happen?” he asked.

Touko grimaced.

“It’s obvious. Someone will have to reschedule their wedding,” said Touko.

“Who?” asked Makoto. No one answered. He frowned and adjusted his hold on his chopsticks. “We booked ours a year ago. When did you book yours?”

“Around that time,” said Byakuya, but then he hesitated. “Admittedly, after yours had been booked. I waited until there were eight weeks until the actual wedding before sending out invitations, like the two of you.”

Makoto forced a smile. He scratched the back of his neck. “Wow... I knew you guys were planning on getting married...”

The bi-color tourmaline in Touko’s engagement ring supported this.

“... but the same time and place too?” he finished. “Talk about coincidences.”

“We’ve had this venue agreed on since the beginning of our engagement,” said Touko in a low voice, face solemn. “Shining Star Shrine is one of the few shrines that survived the tragedy, but it’s still of outstanding merit in its own right. The area is plagued with natural disasters. Hurricanes. Floods. Fires. But the Shrine and the surrounding area remain untouched. In the eleventh century, a maiden lived there, and after a huge fire, it’s said that she sacrificed herself to protect the Shrine thereafter, reincarnating into a crane who watches over the area. They built a statue of her in her memory, that still stands there to this day.”

Her words drew Makoto’s mouth into a pucker, and he felt like he was staring out toward rows of fields and rolls of hills on a grey, cloudy morning. She created that sort of melancholy atmosphere. Kyouko inclined her head slightly.

“That’s all very well, but we considered this venue soon after we were engaged, and we became engaged some time before you,” Kyouko pointed out in a cool tone. “Also, more importantly, we booked ours first, so I recommend that you and Togami-kun do the appropriate thing and changing your booking.”

Touko whipped her head toward Kyouko. Lightning struck in her eyes on the grim morning on her face.

“Have your ears been clogged with wax for the past few years?” snapped Touko, speaking with a lot erratic gestures that used the entirety of her arms. “Or have you fallen asleep with your eyes open? It’s hard to tell when you rarely change your expression. Just because me and my darling agreed on it together at that time, doesn’t mean I haven’t mentioned it before. I’ve been talking about getting married there way before you and Naegi got together.”

Keep in mind that at no point had Byakuya and Kyouko averted their gazes from the other, and they didn’t seem like they were about to any time soon. Touko seethed by them, but the gale of her breath couldn’t and didn’t budge Kyouko, who when she next spoke, though her eyes were on Byakuya, she directed her words at Touko.

“You also talked about covering yourself in whipped cream and letting Togami-kun lick it off with his wrists bound while he was wearing cat accessories,” said Kyouko, straight-faced.

A choked gasp escaped Touko. Byakuya flinched. He coughed into his hand, a bit pink, and finally broke eye contact.

“... Anyway. Touko’s right,” he said quickly. With that out of the way, he lowered his hand, looked at Kyouko again and added, “The next available day is several months away, and there’s a fair chance that we won’t be able to get married at the same time next year. It has to be this year.”

Kyouko regarded him with half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not rearranging our wedding,” said Kyouko calmly. His face tightened.

“Well, I’m not,” replied Byakuya, matching her volume and tone, barely.

“Y-Yeah!” Touko piped up, raising a fist. Then she slammed it against the table, causing the silverware to jolt. “Me and my darling... are not backing down!”

“We’re definitely not,” said Byakuya, louder than before. He wasn’t yelling, but he attracted the attention of more students.

Several further away stood up to obtain a better view of the scene. Others turned their heads. Up soared Byakuya’s fist, and Touko lifted hers to copy him. Makoto cringed, painfully aware that conversation had died off in the rest of the cafeteria. For a few moments, no one said anything, all staring.

“Hey, what’s all the shouting for?” asked a voice, and Makoto turned toward where it was coming from. Aoi, Yasuhiro and Komaru approached their table, with Aoi being the one who had called out.

None of them had any food on them, so most likely they had only recently entered the cafeteria. No doubt they heard them very soon after coming in. They stopped at Makoto’s table but didn’t sit down, choosing to remain on their feet instead.

Yasuhiro pulled a face. He stuck a finger in his ear and made a screwing motion in it. “Yeesh, it’s too early to be talking so loudly.”

“... It’s past noon,” said Touko. Her face tensed, like she sucked on the innards of a lemon, and she turned to glower at the table closest to them. “There’s nothing to see here! D-Do you want detention?”

That put off most students. Conversation was slow to start, but once one table began talking, the rest swiftly resumed around them. Sometimes, Makoto and his companions ate their lunch in the teachers’ room, but often they met up here, such as today, for extra supervision.

While the majority of students had relaxed and retreated into their own bubbles, chatting away between bites, at Makoto’s table, Byakuya and Kyouko continued ignoring everyone else to the befuddlement of the late arrivals. Makoto looked up.

“Togami-kun and Fukawa-san’s wedding was accidentally booked at the same time and place as ours,” he explained.

The confusion on their friends’ faces didn’t leave, but shifted. Aoi’s eyebrows arched. Komaru gaped. Yasuhiro quirked his brow.

“Is that even possible?” asked Aoi.

Makoto offered a smile. It wasn’t an answer, but it was better than nothing, and then he shrugged. “Beats me.”

“So now we have to decide who keeps their booking,” replied Byakuya.

Komaru cupped her elbow with one hand and rubbed her chin with the other.

“Well, who booked first?” she asked.

“We did,” said Kyouko, before anyone else had chance to respond.

Komaru pulled her arms out of their positions and gave her palm a light punch. “Then it’s simple, isn’t it?” she said brightly. “Makoto and Kyouko-chan booked first, so they should get married on that day.”

“Yeah!” Aoi chimed in, nodding.

“Makes sense,” Yasuhiro said, one hand on his hip.

Touko let out a whine.

“B-But then we’d have to wait ages to get married there,” said Touko, wringing her hands. “And... even longer for it to fall on Taian again...”

“Taian is on the last day of the year next year too,” Yasuhiro pointed out, earning another groan from Touko.

“That shrine won’t be available for weddings then,” said Touko. She hunched her shoulders and held her head in her hands. “What am I suppose to tell my preteen self...?”

Aoi frowned at her.

“You can get married somewhere else, can’t you?” asked Aoi.

Touko spluttered and straightened. Her fingers dragged down through her hair, stopping near the top of her braids. “I can’t just-! I’ve wanted to get married there since I was in elementary school! In fact... I was the one who mentioned it to Kirigiri when she asked about shrines.”

Everyone else turned to Kyouko, who glanced at Touko.

“You did recommend me that shrine,” said Kyouko calmly. “But that doesn’t mean you have priority.”

“Strictly speaking, no one does,” said Byakuya.

“Strictly speaking, they should,” said Aoi, jerking her head toward Makoto and Kyouko. “Right? I mean, they booked theirs first.”

“I’m down with whatever.” Yasuhiro rubbed his nose. “I’m there for the food, friends and for a reasonable price, possibly entertainment or photography.”

Touko twitched and released her head.

“You’re all making decisions with your brains!” she hissed. That was the conventional way of making decisions, but Makoto and the others decided to hear her out. Her nails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists. “Ever since I was young, I dreamed about getting married there. As I grew older, the face of my groom would change in my daydreams. My childhood friend. The butcher’s apprentice. A boy I saw in the library. Then, I met Byakuya, and the face never changed from his after that...”

She gulped noisily. The tension contorting her face slackened a little. Surrounding students had stopped talking, clearly listening in, but Touko didn’t hound on them like last time. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed. Perhaps she had, but she didn’t care.

“And for Byakuya... the date,” she said, quieter, staring downward. “It’s the end of the year, but it also signifies the coming of a new beginning. That is like...”

“... the fall of my conglomerate,” finished Byakuya in a soft tone, and Touko lifted her head, eyes wide.

“... but also a new beginning,” said Touko. She clasped her hands together, quivering. “Us.”

Makoto’s heart twinged. The cafeteria held its breath, hushed. Byakuya fixed the position of his glasses wordlessly, not looking at anyone, his expression unreadable.

Kyouko didn’t budge. No crease to her brow. No flicker by her lashes. No tug on her lips. Her hands remained folded neatly on her lap.

“Well,” Aoi started uncomfortably. She scratched at her elbow. “That’s... there are other places you can have it. Right...?”

Yasuhiro feigned interest in the ceiling, and when Aoi turned to Komaru, she found Komaru scraping her teeth against her lips, and in contrast to Yasuhiro, she was seemingly examining her trainers, like a maths equation that she couldn’t figure out. Aoi hesitated.

“Komaru-chan?” said Aoi. Komaru’s shoulders slumped.

“I can’t say ‘no’ to a twelve year old Touko-chan,” lamented Komaru.

“It’s not like you’re actually going to,” said Yasuhiro. Regardless of whether he was correct or not, he went ignored.

Aoi stared at Komaru.

“Eh? This is your brother!” said Aoi, gesturing toward Makoto.

“I... I know... but...” Komaru trailed off.

Aoi blanched. “You don’t sound so sure!”

“Touko-chan is my best friend,” Komaru said, wincing. “I can’t gang up on her.”

“She’s my friend too, but Kyouko-chan and Naegi are my friends as well and what’s fair is fair,” said Aoi, swishing a finger.

“I can’t...” Komaru fidgeted, looking like if she could, she would have melted into the floor.

“Don’t back down, Komaru!” said Touko, waving her fist.

“You have to!” said Aoi, leaning in a bit toward Komaru, who puffed out her chest.

“Easy for you to say!” Komaru replied, scrunching her face.

Aoi and Komaru pursed their lips into sneers, squinting at each other.

By now, the entire cafeteria was watching the drama. Yasuhiro didn’t help and had shuffled backward to another table, perching on the edge and hiding behind his arms but making sure he could still see what was going on. Kyouko’s face gave a spasm, and despite her composure up to now, this opened the floodgates. She gripped the edge of the table and shot to her feet. Her chair screeched back.

“Togami-kun, you are being unreasonable,” she said, her calm demeanour cracking as Byakuya pressed against it more and more. Her eyes set alight. She didn’t shout, but she didn’t need to. “I’m not going to relent because you’ll have a tantrum otherwise.”

Byakuya stood up now, leering down at her, and clicked his tongue.

“What a surprise, you’re throwing others under the bus after they’ve helped you for your own gain.” He stuck up his nose. “Are we in the mutual killings again? All we need is Alter Ego and a conveyor belt, though you’ve got the ego by yourself.”

“Are you really going to say that I’m the one with the ego? The man who has his family crest on his underwear?”

“T-Touko said she wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Their bickering grew progressively louder, until -

“Guys!” Makoto blurted, much louder than he intended.

His voice rung out, and though no one spoke in the aftermath, the room buzzed. He could feel his heart beat furiously in his chest. Heat rose to his face, prickling his skin, but at least he got what he wanted - everyone had fallen silent and had turned to him, giving him their utmost attention.

A shaky sigh escaped him.

“Why won’t we have a double wedding?” he suggested. Kyouko and Byakuya exchanged sceptical looks, while Touko gritted her teeth. “Shining Star Shrine is the most ideal place for a wedding, and I understand. We all want the day to be special. We want to be the centre of attention. But I think... for my special day to also be special for two of my closest friends, then I don’t mind. Please... stop fighting.”

He rested a hand over his heart. The only things that he lacked were wings and a halo.

“Makoto’s right,” said Komaru quietly. Aoi put her arm around Komaru’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “We shouldn’t fight.”

Kyouko’s and Byakuya’s lips contorted as they considered Makoto’s suggestion. Byakuya stroked his chin. For every second that passed that neither answered, Makoto’s heart continued drumming.

“Think of how much money you’d be saving,” added Yasuhiro, rubbing his thumb and index finger together.

That was right. After all, Byakuya wasn’t a billionaire anymore. Touko didn’t have her royalties or her savings. Kyouko didn’t have her family’s savings, and neither did Makoto.

“I suppose something could be arranged,” said Byakuya, finally, sounding tired. He offered his hand.

Kyouko nodded and took it in hers. They shook on it unsmilingly. But they didn’t seem about to kill each other, so that was good enough for now.

Makoto flopped in his seat. While most of their friends relaxed and even managed small grins, watching the pair, Touko confronted the rest of the cafeteria. In fear of receiving a detention, students tensed and forced themselves to look away, but then Touko started thrashing her arms and beaming up to her ears, she announced,

“You’re all invited to my wedding!”

* * *

 

The next several weeks flew by, and then, what felt rather suddenly, the morning of the wedding started to unfurl. Kyouko couldn’t suppress the fluttering sensation in her chest. Shining Star Shrine contained a special room for the bride, bridesmaids, maids of honour and so on. A haze seemed to reside in the creamy-hued room, giving the illusion that Kyouko was in a dream. But it wasn’t a dream. This was real. She was getting married, and so was Touko.

Even though their weddings were being held at a shrine, that didn’t mean the ceremony was strictly shinto style. For example, rather than don a white kimono, Touko studied her western wedding dress in the full length mirror provided for them. The dress started with a sweetheart neckline on a textured bodice, with ruffled off-shoulder sleeves. A long, sheer lace cape decorated with silhouettes of butterflies trailed behind her, pinned to the top of the dress. The same fabric with the same pattern as the cape was used for the outer layers of the skirts, starting at the waist and pooling at her feet.

Truly, she looked like she belonged in a Hollywood wedding, and Touko had intended that.

Touko picked at her fingers. She had been standing there for about five minutes now, without doing anything else.

“Are you okay, Fukawa-san?” asked Kyouko, seated on a similar chair a short distance behind Touko. The dark mahogany frames of the chairs resembled paint strokes.

“It won’t be that for long,” Touko reminded her. She wiggled, mostly her shoulders and her hips. “I’ll be... Touko Togami...”

Kyouko admired Touko’s flower tiara. Most of the flowers in it were white, but a few were pale blue or violet. Her hair had been piled into a bun and studded with more flowers with the same colour scheme. Styling all that hair had taken Komaru, Hiroko and Kanon quite a bit of time.

A small smile pulled at the ends of Kyouko’s lips and she nodded.

Touko inspected her reflection for a minute more before standing near Kyouko. Other chairs were there, but most likely, Touko didn’t want to risk giving her dress a single wrinkle, and she hadn’t even tasted any of the wine in the bottle provided for them, which had been on a small, round table when they arrived, in case it smudged her lipstick. She cast her eyes toward Kyouko, who, while she had chosen a kimono, had gone for violet silk and lace as opposed to a white shiromuku. For a while, Touko just traced her eyes over the black, winding pattern on Kyouko’s kimono, with fake roseheads and leaves stitched into it, and then she briefly looked at Kyouko’s usual gloves before lifting her gaze.

When Kyouko glanced down, she noticed Touko’s hands trembling.

“Excited?” asked Kyouko, making eye contact again.

“Exuberant,” replied Touko quickly, curling and uncurling her fingers repeatedly multiple times until she hugged herself. “Why wouldn’t I be? Today... I’m going to be Touko Togami...!”

Kyouko smirked.

“And you?” asked Touko, loosening her hold on herself a little bit. “Quid pro quo.”

“I’m of the same mind,” said Kyouko. Touko’s lips tightened.

“Then you’re hiding it,” said Touko.

“You should know now, Fukawa-san, that I don’t wear my feelings on my sleeve.” Kyouko paused. “Or should it be Touko-san now?”

Touko tensed.

“J-Just Touko will do,” said Touko, one of her legs jittery.

“Touko,” tried Kyouko.

That brought out a loud gasp from Touko, so sharp that she nearly choked. Kyouko eyed her with a part-bemused, part-concerned look as Touko coughed, straightened up and pushed up her glasses.

“Komaru and Asahina-san call you by your forename,” said Kyouko, and Byakuya did, but he was an exception for a lot of things with Touko.

“But this is you! You sound like you’re about to pass sentence when you say it. And I’m still working through a lot of stuff,” said Touko. Frowning, she tilted her head back slightly, eyes narrowed as she seemed to examine Kyouko. “I don’t think you’re making fun of me... so I’ll allow it.”

She huffed, putting her hands onto her hips.

“You really are guarded with your emotions,” remarked Touko, making no attempt to hide the petulant annoyance that lined her voice and pulled her lips into a pout. “That’s very different to your husband, yet you fit together so well.”

What Touko said wasn’t surprising, or something that Kyouko hadn’t been told before, yet Kyouko sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments, eyes unfocused. Kyouko rested her arms on her lap and could feel Touko’s gaze drilling into her head. When she lifted her head, she confirmed that Touko was staring at her.

“You’re correct,” said Kyouko evenly. She sat back in her chair and ran a finger across the curve of her ear, avoiding touching her makeup. “While I prefer to keep my emotions in control, Makoto is like a glass house with his. However, that doesn’t mean he is fragile... he is strong.”

Touko listened without interruption, and so Kyouko continued, visualising Makoto’s face, his smiles, his nervous tics, his laughs and the fire that he had deep in him, that could melt even the frostiest of exteriors, given enough time, enough opportunity. The ends of Kyouko’s lips curved upward without her realising.

“He is supportive, and brave,” said Kyouko. She crossed her legs at the ankles. Though she didn’t speak loudly, her voice seemed to fill the room. “I know to some people, he just seems foolish, but he’s genuine. He lets me know that it is okay to be myself, and when I’m with him, I feel comfortable expressing myself. His readiness to help others, even at the expense of himself, is something that I try to follow in example. Someone so down-to-earth, encouraging and warm... is a kind of person that I want to share my life with.”

By the end of that, Kyouko’s cheeks had grown warm. The strange, tickly feeling in Kyouko’s chest returned. She took a breath and let herself avert her gaze for a short time. No more than a couple of seconds could have passed, though she hadn’t kept track of the arms on the analog clock on the wall, that ticked with no consideration to anyone else. Her eyes flitted back to Touko, and she received a full dosage of Touko’s wide eyes.

“And you support him too,” added Touko, nodding. She gripped some of her skirts. “Don’t forget that. You support him too, and give him direction and confidence... and you often make him see sense. There’s altruism, and then there’s plain foolishness. He needs someone with more foresight, who can analyse situations as astutely as you. There are times when logic must rule over emotions, when one must be rational and able to keep themselves separate from and objective in a certain situation.”

Kyouko cocked her head.

“You are Touko, aren’t you?” asked Kyouko, deadpan, and Touko yelped.

“Hey!” Touko said, and Kyouko couldn’t restrain her smile. Touko shook her fists. “Giving snide comments is my thing!”

That almost made Kyouko laugh, but she did crack a smile. This wasn’t the conversation that she had expected to be having on the morning of her wedding. She was just repeating what she already knew, what could have been extracted as readily, but saying it aloud to someone like this... felt nice. Perhaps this was why Touko gushed about Byakuya as much as she did.

“What about you, Touko?” asked Kyouko, in good spirits. “You and Togami-kun are different, yet you are clearly in love.”

“We’re different... in ways,” said Touko, sobering. She stood still. “To many, Byakuya is a cold-hearted person, and I am lovey-dovey...”

Kyouko was interested in how Touko planned to refute this.

“But really, we are similar in many ways too,” said Touko.

“Oh?” said Kyouko. Touko groped at her skirts.

“Both of us... have had issues trusting people, and still do to some extent,” she said, looking away “And... And we’ve talked about our childhoods, and found... we both went through a lot of stress and trauma. We both closed out others to survive. He forced himself not to feel, leaving him out of touch with his emotions, while for me... I felt too much, and when I tried to dissociate from my feelings, it created her.”

Genocider Syo. Her grim expression smoothed out. Though she remained serious, her eyes shone.

“In the end, I didn’t become a better person for Byakuya, but he made me want to be a better person. He encouraged me to face my fears, to keep moving forward, to be strong and dependable... and then I applied it to others,” said Touko. She squeezed her hands together. “I applied it to Komaru, who encouraged me too... and she taught me that romantic love isn’t the only kind of love.”

Touko was blushing. Kyouko didn’t say anything, but Touko whipped her head toward Kyouko like she had and wagged a finger.

“But I love Byakuya in many ways! Not just romantic! He’s one of a kind!” Touko said.

“I think your love taught Togami-kun some things,” Kyouko said, while Touko stared happily into empty space. “He used to think emotional bonds were weaknesses, but with us, he learned to depend on others and appreciate friendships, and you proved to him the power of a romantic love... something I doubt he would have considered even for a moment before meeting you.”

“Yes!” Touko’s face lit up as she clapped her hands. “We’re meant to be! He accepts me fully... me and Genocider. She didn’t want a wedding herself, even though Byakuya offered her a lower key one with just our close friends knowing about it, but she left me a note for today...”

Kyouko watched Touko waddle over to her handbag, not because of her footwear but as she took care to not damage her dress in any way. The handbag had been left by the leg of a vanity, and Touko bent down to unfasten it. Touko revealed a note and walked back over to show it to Kyouko. Standing close to each other, Kyouko breathed in Touko’s floral perfume as she investigated the note. On the note was ‘have a fucktastic day!’ crudely written, and an even cruder drawing of Byakuya and Touko having se-... having... of Byakuya and Touko.

She kept holding it out, and Kyouko really hoped that Touko didn’t mean to give it to her. As nice as it was to see that those two had a better relationship, Kyouko didn’t want that as a memento.

“Enough about her though! Me and Byakuya...” Touko wrapped her arms around herself, taking the note with her, to Kyouko’s relief. Her face positively glowed. “... were made for each other. Our names mean winter child and white night, and my birthday is girls’ day while his was known as boys’ day, we both wear glasses, we both like reading and watching the same obscure movies...”

With a smile, Kyouko listened to Touko go on at length about Byakuya, glad that she had not forced them to postpone their wedding if it meant she got to see Touko so happy, until the door was thrown open. While Kyouko had picked up on footsteps before this, and so just turned toward the door calmly, Touko hadn’t anticipated it and she screamed. At the head of the pack were the two maids of honour - Aoi, for Kyouko, and Komaru, for Touko, though they had combined their forces for the double wedding and did much of the planning together. Indeed, they even burst in with their arms linked, Komaru in her grey-blue dress and Aoi in a waistcoat and trousers, monochrome.

“Knock first!” Touko snapped, clutching her chest. “A-And wipe your feet!”

“Sorry, Touko-chan,” panted Komaru, not sounding particularly apologetic. Behind the maids of honour were Kanon - Leon’s cousin, Ayaka - a former group member of Sayaka’s idol group - and Fujiko, who was Hifumi’s sister. Kanon wore a suit while the other two wore dresses.

Komaru doubled over and pressed her hands against her thighs, wheezing a bit. Once she got her breath back, she straightened and waved an envelope.

“The paparazzi are everywhere,” said Komaru. “They took a bunch of photos... probably to spin a story about how we’ve drawn a circle around the site and plan to sacrifice all the guests to summon a giant Komaeda.”

“They wouldn’t think that unless you told them that drivel!” hissed Touko, retracting her fingers like the claws of a predator about to pounce on their prey. “You’re probably where they get half the stories from!”

“Anyway,” said Komaru, not denying what Touko said, “we got this sent over from Jabberwock Island.”

She flourished the envelope again. Touko and Kyouko looked at each other. Kyouko rose and took the envelope from Komaru. Inside was a letter, several pages long. After every paragraph, the handwriting changed as someone else had a turn writing something down.

 

Referring to the double wedding as ‘high profile’ wouldn’t be underselling it. Soon after the invites had been sent out, the media caught wind of the event that was to take place on the last day of the year, and so for the next several weeks, newspapers, websites and news channels updated the world about every detail in an almost endless stream, harping on every single movement, every trip out, every glance from either party. Speculation and rumours whirled around them, around every corner, and cameras clicked and flashed aggressively, documenting the run up to the weddings and everything barely related to it. Not even friends of the married couples-to-be were spared.

Therefore, in order to give the ceremony at least a decent amount of privacy, someone had to be tasked with identifying each guest before they could be let in, in case a paparazzo tried to sneak in.

The first of the guests started trickling in through the main entrance and by the doors stood Yasuhiro, the best man for both grooms. Signs either side of him announced the people to be wed. He adjusted his small glasses as he reread the guest list.

Two shadows teased the top of his vision. Yasuhiro raised his head.

One shadow belonged to a younger man with purple hair gelled into spikes that stuck upward at the top and downward near his forehead. His wide smile contrasted with the scowl of his companion, who pulled at one of her brown pigtails, her red eyes narrowed. Both wore kimonos. Hers was red and black, while his resembled a galaxy. They were more stylish than traditional.

“You here for the wedding?” asked Yasuhiro brightly.

“Yeah! That’s me!” the man said, giving Yasuhiro a thumbs up.

“I don’t think I know you guys. What are your names?”

They shouldn’t have hesitated.

“I am Momota Kaito,” said the man, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from his female friend.

“Remember what we talked about?” growled the woman.

“Oh yeah! I’m actually Ryōhei Kimura,” said the man. He barked out a laugh, prodded himself in the chest and then aimed his thumb at person beside him. “And this is Maaya Sakamoto.”

She stared blankly at Yasuhiro, who felt a small shiver.

“Are you here for the bride, the bride, the groom or the groom?” asked Yasuhiro.

The two looked at each other briefly.

“We are friends of Naegi and Kirigiri,” the woman said, turning back to him.

He positioned the clipboard near his face and skimmed down the list twice, but the more he progressed, the more his brow furrowed.

“I still can’t f-” Yasuhiro lowered the clipboard and tensed. The two were gone. They had vanished. A pang plucked at his chest. He couldn’t see them ahead of them and when he checked over his shoulder, he couldn’t see them there either.

“It’s not like either of them were a Super High School Assassin, so it should be okay,” he said to himself, and he tried not to think about it as he let in the next guests.

Once all the guests had arrived, Yasuhiro went inside, closing the door behind him, and joined the others in the minimalist waiting room. The mystery guests were nowhere in sight. Maybe they left. Hopefully they left. Though he couldn’t spot them, he did see the grooms. Byakuya had a beige suit on, with a waistcoat under the jacket, and Makoto wore a black crested jacket and vertically striped hakama.

Yasuhiro strode over to them and slung an arm each over their shoulders, standing between them. Makoto buckled a bit at first under the sudden force of Yasuhiro’s arm but didn’t collapse.

“You guys ready?” asked Yasuhiro, grinning widely.

“Y-Yeah,” said Makoto with a quaver in his voice. He tweaked his collar then scraped a hand through his short hair.

“Signed your pledges? Practiced the ritual offerings? Your vows?” asked Yasuhiro, pulling them closer to his sides.

Byakuya adjusted the ivory rose boutonniere on his lapel. “Of course we have.”

“Hey, we don’t need that tone for today!” scolded Yasuhiro cheerfully. “I just want to make sure that one of the best days of my buddies’ lives goes without a hitch, ‘right? As best man, that’s my job, and if this goes well and I prove myself capable, my mother promised that I could get a pet turtle!”

“Idiot,” grumbled Byakuya. Yasuhiro gave him a hearty slap on the back, skewing Byakuya’s glasses.

“So, Togami-chi, did you have to write different vows for Fukawa-chi and Genocider-chi?” asked Yasuhiro. “Or are you doing theirs at the same time with the same one?”

“Genocider and I aren’t getting married,” said Byakuya. He fixed his glasses, frowning. “We talked last night, actually... I offered her the chance again, but she insisted that weddings weren’t her thing. She said she’d rather choose to stay with me rather than be bound to me, like catching a fly with syrup rather than with glue, and she gave me her scissors...”

There was a delay between hearing the words and processing them. Makoto and Yasuhiro stiffened at the same time, staring at Byakuya.

“Whoa, seriously?” said Yasuhiro, eyebrows raised. “And what did you give her?”

“I recited my vows to her.”

“Aw!” went Makoto. Byakuya scrunched his face into a pout and slid out of Yasuhiro’s grasp, turning his back to them and refusing to talk to them anymore.

The tradition of the groom not seeing their bride until as late as possible originated from a time when arranged marriages were more common, but they adopted this aspect for their wedding even though the wedding was very much a decision made by all those getting married. By now, the waiting room was getting a bit too snug. Next to enter was a shrine maiden, looking radiant in a crisp white kimono jacket and red hakama.

She walked over to one side of the room and chimed a bell, and the general chatter in the room died down. With everyone’s undivided attention on her, she gave a small bow.

“Please, follow me, and we will begin,” she said, once she had straightened.

Everyone stirred into motion and followed her out. They made their way across the grounds to the pavillion, the fresh winter air caressing their exposed skin. Just outside of the premises, crowds of onlookers craned their necks, many wielding blinking cameras, all shouting but none of it intelligible. Makoto gave a nervous grin and waved. Byakuya kept his eyes forward.

A sea of white chairs decorated with big purple bows waited for them in front of the pavilion, which was decked with bright bouquets flanking its entrance. White and golden fabric wound along the columns of the pavillion, drooping slightly where they bridged to the top of their neighbouring columns. Behind and either side of the pavillion was a lot of greenery, palm trees and shrubs dotted with small, peach-coloured buds, the tallest of these hanging over the structure. From the pavilion’s doorway, a paved path hung out like the tongue of a dog on a hot day, and the chairs stood either side of it.

Yasuhiro began directing everyone to their seats, while Byakuya and Makoto positioned themselves inside of the pavillion. The Head Priest was there already, and he gave them a friendly nod before continuing to meander about.

Makoto breathed in a fresh grass scent and looked up at Byakuya. He wanted to say something but he didn’t know what, and he knew that Byakuya didn’t appreciate small talk, so he gulped and cast his eyes toward the guests. Near the front of the seating arrangement were nine empty seats and in the front row were two unoccupied seats, for his parents, which Makoto regarded with an ache in the back of his throat.

“Hey. Naegi,” said Byakuya in a low tone and when Makoto turned, he met Byakuya’s bright blue eyes. “Don’t mess up.”

“I won’t,” said Makoto, rubbing the back of his neck, and Byakuya actually grinned, though it faded a bit as Byakuya turned back toward the guests. Makoto tried to follow his gaze, and he thought that Byakuya was looking at Aloysius Pennyworth, who seemed to be discussing something with Kyouko’s grandfather, Fuhito.

One time, Fuhito invited Makoto into a sauna, and in there, he had told Makoto that if Makoto ever crossed his granddaughter, no one would ever find the body. Then, soon after Makoto started spluttering promises, Fuhito told him that he had been joking. His granddaughter must have meant a lot to him.

“Togami-kun,” risked Makoto, with some hesitation. “If your parents were here...”

“... which they aren’t, because they’re dead,” finished Byakuya with no trace of a smile anymore, keeping his expression unreadable.

“Right. Sorry,” said Makoto. His shoulders sagged. He stroked himself on the wrist. “I think... if they weren’t, they’d be proud of you.”

“You don’t know them,” said Byakuya in a flat voice. “My father would disapprove. Not that he would be able to sway me. Regardless, it doesn’t matter to me. Pennyworth is here.”

A pause. Byakuya glanced at Makoto, showing a glimpse of teeth.

“But... I know you’re trying to console me. I don’t need you to, but I acknowledge it,” said Byakuya.

Makoto blinked, at a loss for words, then nodded with a tentative smile.

“I’m sure your parents would be pleased with you,” added Byakuya, and his words hit Makoto’s core. “Your future wife can be a pain, but she is a remarkable woman. She’s no Touko, but...”

Byakuya trailed off, but Makoto didn’t need him to finish. The ghost of a smile haunted Makoto’s lips.

“I understand,” said Makoto quietly, lowering his eyes. “Thanks.”

A while later, a rickshaw drew up a short distance away, and from it stepped out the two brides. Makoto widened his eyes and gasped, while Byakuya stood incredibly still, his mouth slightly open. The silence hovering over them didn’t have chance to become awkward. Yasuhiro started playing an ukulele.

Hiroko and Takaaki’s daughter, Okimi, threw petals from her basket as she followed them up the aisle. They slowly passed the guests, who watched their journey to their future spouses.

As the brides passed the former Warriors of Hope, Jataro dabbed. Kotoko giggled. Jataro froze, then turned to the others.

“You guys promised we’d do it at the same time!” complained Jataro. His friends snickered.

Takemichi Yukimaru, an old friend of Mondo’s, wore a suit rather than a biker outfit, and carried the rings on a cushion. He was older than one would expect for a ring bearer, but he complied with his role and stood next to Yasuhiro. Touko and Kyouko reached the pavillion and took their places beside Byakuya and Makoto respectively.

Makoto couldn’t take his eyes off Kyouko, whose usually pale face had become rosy. Touko gulped, fiddling with her fingers, a ball of repressed energy that brewed, trembling.

“Let us begin,” said the Head Priest, his voice carrying all the past the furthest row of chairs. He brandished a gohei - a wand - and waved it first over their heads, the white streamers attached to it shimmering, then he swished it in the direction of the guests.

Then he turned back to the shrine and bowed.

“Nobue-sama,” he said. “Today, not one but two couples wish to marry in the same ceremony at your shrine. Please, I ask on their behalf for your blessing. Our first gift to you is a dance from our shrine maidens.”

Three shrine maidens glided over to a small clearing and danced to appease the deity of the shrine. Everyone watched their controlled but fluid movements, and when they finished, the Head Priest presented a tray stacked with sake cups of different sizes. First, he offered sake from the smallest cup - there was so little that Makoto faked one of the three sips that he drank. They took turns drinking from it, then they each sipped three times from a bigger cup, and then three times from a cup bigger than the previous two.

The Head Priest placed the tray on a small table and faced the two couples. From rehearsals, Makoto knew what he needed to do, but he needed a nudge from Byakuya to remind him. His legs wobbled a bit as he stepped up to a podium with Kyouko.

“Kyouko,” he said, determined not to read from the note hidden up his sleeve. “My life hasn’t taken me, Makoto Naegi, down the path I expected. But... that has happened a lot, like one time, I went out to buy snacks for my friends, and I ended up being a hostage and thwarting a robbery.”

“Show off,” muttered Komaru.

“I thought that would be the most interesting thing to ever happen to me, but it wasn’t,” said Makoto. “I attended Hope’s Peak, met my closest friends, survived the world almost ending, and one of those precious people that entered my life is you, Kyouko.”

Makoto reached for her hands and took them in his sweaty pair. He didn’t peek up his sleeve at the note, but suppose he did, he barely glanced at it, so it didn’t count.

“After nearly losing you, I don’t want to go through that again. No matter where life takes us, I want to marry you.” His voice cracked and he rubbed his eyes on his shoulder before looking at her again with a full grin and unashamed eyes. “Regardless of our health, our situation, I will love you, respect you, console you and help you until death. My spirit will remain loyally yours.”

Kyouko smiled. Her eyes swam.

“Makoto...” Usually, a groom would read their joined pledge to the deity of the shrine, but she had wanted to give her own personal pledge to him. She had refused to wear white, refused to wear headgear to hide her horns of jealousy, to show submission. He loved her. “You have been by my side for a long time now. Even when I, Kyouko Kirigiri, cannot see you, cannot open up, you support me, and I swear to make the same commitment that you do. I will stand with you in peaceful times, in strife, in sickness and in health. I will protect you, and be yours like you will be in kind.”

And what better place to promise this than in front of a deity? They hooked their pinky fingers with each other then let go and stepped back, unable to take their eyes off the person opposite them. The other couple stepped up to the podium. Touko’s legs almost buckled, and she had to support herself with the podium to prevent herself from collapsing.

Byakuya cleared his throat, but he couldn’t shake off the colour on his face.

“In front of everyone present, I, Byakuya Togami, pledge to you, Touko Fukawa, unyielding loyalty and devotion. I hereby dedicate myself to you and will honour and respect you, regardless of the obstacles that we will inevitably face. You shall be my constant and I yours, and even after the day that I pass on, I will love you.”

Kyouko’s eyes had swam. Touko’s almost drowned.

“Y-Yes!” she squawked. Byakuya frowned. She tried to recompose herself with a deep breath, then a loud sniffle, and just keeping it together, she gave her vows in a thick, emotional tone. “I, T-Touko Fukawa, always dreamed of this moment, but only with you has it become reality. I thought... this sort of happiness could only be imagined, in a story, but it’s real. You’re real. I’m real. My soul will be with you, regardless of health, regardless of good and bad times, and I swear I will respect you, honour you, console and help you, cherish you, love you, with every fibre of my body. I swear.”

Touko was on the verge of blubbering.

“Those are happy tears,” said Byakuya, almost as a question, and she nodded. He reached forward to gently wipe the corners of her eyes, smiling faintly.

She was still snivelling as the four of them picked up a branch decorated with paper strips, which had been placed on a table near the pavillion. They moved them to the podium for Nobue-sama as offerings, and then turned to Takemichi. He proffered the cushion. The four rings on them glistened.

After they exchanged rings, sliding them onto their partner’s finger, the Head Priest left the pavillion, turned to it and bowed.

“Thank you, Nobue-sama, for your blessings. To show your dedication to each other, you may kiss now,” said the Head Priest, directing the last part at the others.

Kyouko cradled Makoto’s cheek, while he gingerly held onto her waist, and they pressed their lips together. His senses exploded, as intense as fireworks. Cheering erupted. Byakuya peered at them, but then Touko yanked him toward her, dipping him, and when she kissed him, he relaxed and placed a hand against her cheek. Yasuhiro whooped loudest.

Family members were called up to get cups to sip from, similar to what Makoto and the other three had done. During the wedding, Kameko had been riding on Komaru’s shoulder, and now, Komaru gave Kameko to Touko, who tried to persuade the stinkbug to drink from the sake cups. Kameko’s antennae got wet, and Touko giggled tearfully. Thankfully, Kanon had thought to use waterproof makeup in case Touko got emotional, though even with smudged eyes and streaked cheeks, she would have been just as happy, just as beautiful.

“You are now husband and wife,” the Head Priest announced, and everyone clapped twice.

Komaru stared out at the rest of the guests and stretched her arms over her head.

“So it’s time for the reception, yeah?” asked Komaru with her face slightly crumpled, though the tension flooded out as she lowered her arms.

“And then the after-party!” Yasuhiro piped up excitedly.

Aoi sighed. She raised her arms with her flat hands palm-up. “You’re way too eager. You better not drink too much and say weird things there...”

Yasuhiro grabbed Aoi’s shoulder and flapped his other hand, grinning.

“You’ve gotta relax. Don’t worry your pony-tailed head, Asahina-chi. I’m fully prepared for later.” He bared his teeth and pointed his thumb at himself. “I’ve got a lot of anecdotes to share.”

Komaru beamed. “Me too!”

She and Yasuhiro rubbed their hands together, laughing under their breaths. Aoi blinked at them, then folded her arms over her chest and pulled a face. Makoto scratched his cheek.

“We should get going,” said Makoto. “I don’t want to keep our limo driver waiting too long.”

Byakuya jutted his chin out. “Hmph, a limo?”

Makoto frowned. “Well, how are you getting to the reception?”

“I’ll be flying us there by helicopter, of course.”

Of course.

“Can we really trust you to stay focused?” asked Kyouko, eyeing Byakuya. “Especially with just you and Touko-san in there.”

“I can see why you jumped to that conclusion. You’re projecting onto me. Getting a limo for yourselves... that leaves you time alone in the back for mischief,” drawled Byakuya.

“Guys, come on,” said Yasuhiro pleadingly, but they were both smiling at each other. Makoto relaxed.

The group started to head down the aisle and others rose from their seats, talking among themselves. Aoi took a few steps before stopping abruptly. Her eyes widened.

“Ah, the bouquets! We need to throw them!” said Aoi, hitting her palm.

Kyouko looked over her shoulder.

“Doesn’t that usually happen after the first dance?” she asked.

Aoi wilted. “Oh... So I didn’t need to bring them here.”

Touko and Kyouko looked at each other.

“I suppose we can do them now,” said Touko, turning to Kyouko, and Aoi perked up.

“Everyone get into position for the bouquets!” shouted Aoi with her hands cupping her mouth. For the wedding, they had acquired bouquets especially prepared to be thrown, as a regular one would be likely to fall apart. Aoi dashed over to where she had left them, near where she had been sitting during the ceremony. Kyouko and Touko walked down the rest of the aisle so in front of them lay a large patio, and Aoi handed them each a bouquet.

Various women, girls and Yasuhiro flocked to the patio, their eyes trained on the two brides.Touko threw her bouquet first, but it landed not far from her feet. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward to pick it up.

“Put your back into it!” Komaru called out, and Touko flung it at Komaru’s face.

Komaru regained her balance, clawed it off and hugged it protectively to her chest, ignoring the dirty looks slung at her. “No backsies!”

Kyouko smiled fondly at them and tossed hers. The bouquet sailed upward, and everyone began chasing after it, running in squiggly lines that overlapped, trying to position themselves under it to catch it. It started to descend, and then a red blur leaped into the sky and caught it, flipping a few times before landing on both feet.

Everyone squinted at the woman who had claimed the bouquet. Her brown pigtails jiggled as she straightened from her crouch, her red eyes narrowed.

“Huh?” asked Aoi. She tilted her head to one side. “Do we know you?”

“I’m not saying anything without a lawyer present!” Yasuhiro blurted despite not being asked anything, but everyone was more concerned with the woman with Kyouko’s bouquet, and then the guy with gelled hair that sidled up to her.

The man who had introduced himself as Ryōhei to Yasuhiro, and who was apparently not called Momota, rubbed the back of his neck with a toothy grin.

Komaru bounced on her toes, cuddling her bouquet. “That was so cool! Like Kamen Rider Faiz!”

“To put in that much effort... You’re either desperate or showing off,” Touko remarked. Her eyes flickered between Maaya and Ryōhei.

Kyouko thought she vaguely recognised Ryōhei, but couldn’t place where from.

“Whatever the case,” said Kyouko, noting how Maaya chewed on her lip, how Maaya fidgeted her feet, how warmth peeked through cracks in the frostiness in her face, “you must really want to marry him.”

Even if Kyouko was wary, she didn’t want to let that be known in case that provoked the newcomers. Maaya looked toward Ryōhei and smiled shyly, pretty much confirming their suspicions.

Ryōhei blinked, frowning.

“Have I got something in my teeth?” he asked.

That swept off Maaya’s smile.

“... Idiot,” said Touko. She shook her head and stamped a foot, glaring at them. “We’re getting sidetracked! We still don’t know who you gatecrashers are! How did you get past security?”

Maaya’s face remained stern but lightly flushed. Her stoicness was returned in kind as everyone else waited for a proper response. An explanation. Neither she nor Ryōhei seemed to intend on speaking, but the silent standoff didn’t last long - the sound of an explosion rang out.

Everyone spun around toward where it originated from. In the distance, they could see what at first appeared to be a block moving toward them, but as it approached, more details bled into view, and they discovered it to be a tank. The door on top opened, and out popped the head of a Monobear. Only, its colour scheme didn’t resemble any that they had seen before. Where usually the fur was black, this one’s was red, and it wore a scarf with a star pin badge around where its head joined its body. Soon after, more peeked out, squashing against each other as they all tried to fit into the opening at the same time - one was half pink, another half blue, one had half of their body striped like a tiger and a fifth Monobear was half green.

“W-What?” Komaru cried out, eyes bulging The Monobears retreated back into the tank, shutting the door after themselves.

Maaya reacted first.

“I told you not to touch anything! You must have activated them by accident and they’ve followed us here,” she snarled. She rushed toward the tank, pulling a gun out from each of her sleeves, with Ryōhei sprinting after her, weaponless.

“Wait up, Maki Roll!” Ryōhei yelled, waving his arm. “We have to be careful! Remember what my granddad said? Even trampling a butterfly could shake up the entire timeline, and we might cease to exist! We’re only supposed to be here for pleasure, not work!”

“It won’t be pleasure if they ruin our idols’ special day,” Maaya shouted, rapidly growing smaller and smaller in their vision as she charged toward the tank.

“Grandpa is going to kill us if he still exists when we come back,” groaned Ryōhei, wiping a hand down his face, but he continued pursuing her.

Behind them, Byakuya broke out of his daze first. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Then, he elevated his chin, pushed up his glasses and held out his hand. Aloysius stepped up beside him and presented him with a hacker megaphone, like the one that Komaru revealed herself to have brought with her to the wedding and concealed until now.

Kyouko cupped her chin.

“Time travel...? Could they be using technology from that secret project by Future Foundation’s fifteenth department?” murmured Kyouko. Now that she thought more about it, Ryōhei resembled a scientist who had worked there. Not exactly, but enough for a grandson.

Touko had got out a taser from her garter belt and balked at her. Byakuya studied Kyouko for a few seconds, and then turned to Touko.

“Don’t ruin that dress,” Byakuya warned Touko as Aloysius passed out hacker guns to the others. Kyouko and Makoto readied theirs, standing back-to-back, while Aoi squinted at the buttons on hers and Yasuhiro held his one the wrong way around, peering inside of it. “We haven’t taken the wedding photos yet, and I promised Genocider that she could wear it later.”

Yasuhiro looked at him.

“I thought you weren’t getting married to her?” said Yasuhiro, eyebrows raised.

“We’re not, but I said I would let her try it on later,” explained Byakuya. He aimed his megaphone. “Kyouko, I expect a full explanation after we neutralise this threat. Now, this won’t take long. We move on the count of three. One... Two...”

The after party would have to wait.

No matter.

They had the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> A transcript of the letter as well as identifiers for who is writing what: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wbAn_RjSaazwV_n671iek4ohhb-Cjdyvf6iZC6wMzNU


End file.
